


Lady Asha, Lord Theon

by Wassersaeufer



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wassersaeufer/pseuds/Wassersaeufer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Asha had been promised to Robb Stark after the Greyjoy Rebellion and taken from Pyke, Theon had been the one left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A fill to a prompt at Livejournal. Original prompt was:
> 
> "Robert decides that taking Balon Greyjoy's only heir would insight the Ironborn instead of bringing them to heels so he does something a little more permanent: Betroth Asha Greyjoy to Ned's son and heir. That way if the Iron Islands rose in rebellion again, they would have the mark of Kinslaying on their hands.
> 
> Asha likes life at Winterfell. It's not the Pyke and people are not always kind to her but Robb is nice and Ned allows her to train as a warrior. And When the War of the Five Kings brakes out Asha goes back to her brother, now Lord of the Iron Islands, to get help for the fledgling Kingdom of the North.
> 
> TL:DR: Queen Asha Stark and Lord Reaper Theon Greyjoy try to help the Starks with the War of the Five Kings. "
> 
> I did not really catch it, but, well, I tried.

They were a group of men who had lost loved ones and friends in the attack at Seaguard. They had decided that some payback was only right. They did not care, that the boy had not even seen twelve namedays and could not hold a sword properly, they did only care that he was of Greyjoy blood. They were hung for that, but then, their misdeeds were already done.

"Seven hells, the boy would not survive two weeks in the frozen north. Take the girl and wed her to your son Ned."

And so Eddard Stark would bring back not a shy boy, but a bashing, strongwilled girl, raising her under his roof as he would have done with his own daughters.

Balon Greyjoy would have lost his sons, not caring that his youngest's life was hanging in the balance, only waiting for the in his eyes weakling to die. And so Alannys Greyjoy, robbed of her darling children, jumped from the rope bridge into the sea.

And things... changed.

-

"With this kiss, I pledge my love..."

It wasn't really that much of a lie. She knew that she could have a much worse husband. One whoring and drinking around, one who would desire to controll her and beat her. One who could not stand up to her. One who would treat her like a delicate flower.

But she had just married the young Wolf, the boy who had beaten Tywin Lannister in the field and had brought winters wrath to the south. On whose side she had ridden into battle, whose big wolf would lick her face and cuddle with her like he was still a puppy.

There was no bedding ceremony, no man dared to touch her, and there was no bedchamber but a tent, but she would not have it any other way. Because somehow, she felt like a conquerer, as she pushed him to the bed and kissed him, feeling his hot breath against her face, clawing at him, hissing and moaning.

The would bite and laugh and moan and kiss, grabbing at each other and pushing at each other in a fight for dominance, never really caring who was just the one in control at the moment. It wasn't that much of love making, not for her, but it was wild and fun and he was, while not perfect, not bad. And she could make this work.

She could have married a worse husband.

-

Pyke felt smaller when she finally returned to the home she had left so many years ago. Compared to Winterfell the castle was cold and damp, unwelcoming and dark, like a relict from a long forgotten past. Tapestries hung long forgotten in the hallways, twisted corridors were dusty and empty, the air was salty and wet. Like everything here.

She strode through the hallways like she owned them, even though she was a guest now, no longer at home in these walls. She needed neither guide nor guard, but the servants she passed gave her strange looks and whispered behind her back. Let them, she thought. They will learn to respect me.

She had killed men, soldiers and knights alike, and paid the Iron Price, if even only for weapons and sadly no trinkets, but she remembered the lessons her father had taught her, if only barely. About the old ways. About the time when the greenlanders, the soft and weak greenlanders, feared the waters and the dangers which came with the longships. Now she knew better.

Not all greenlanders are weak and soft. Robb wasn't. Especially not soft. Especially not at night.

She snickered into herself as she stopped in front of the solar that had once belonged to the King of the Iron Islands. Her father. Without knocking she opened the heavy double door and strode in, giving her two guards the command to wait outside. Though she did not need guard, Robb had persisted in sending them, he just did not feel good without her being protected. And anyway, it would not send the right message, neither to his bannermen nor to her fathers, if she would arrive alone.

"So..."

She could not place the voice that carried through the damp, dark room, only that it was not that of her father. And neither her uncles Aeron nor Victarion. That only left one choice.

"... is he any good in bed? Or do I have to teach the young wolf a lesson about fucking a woman?"

The person which stood up from the armchair in the corner of the darkened room was not what she would have expected. Lanky and dangerously thin, his ribs showing, his face a bit hollow and his hair gone premature grey. There were scars all around his body, visible as he was only wearing breeches and an open, dirty and old coat. Still, she would recognize that smile everywhere.

"Theon?", she asked with slight disbelieve in her voice. "Is that you Theon?"

"Who did you expect, Aegon the conquerer?", he answered with a mocking smile and a twinkle in his remaining good eye. The other one he had lost years prior, when some soldiers from the Riverlands had plunged it out with a knife, leaving a scarred mess.

"Actually, I did expect father."

"Father is dead."

"... oh." She did also not expect that. "... how?"

A shrug. "He fell. From the bridges."

"When?"

"Two days ago. You missed the ceremony. It was touching." He chuckled slightly. It was obvious he did not miss the man who he had called his father. Considering the number of scars he had and the fact that he was using a walking stick to help him moving around, she had an idea why that was. And she also remembered a harsh, brutal man who held no love for weakness and his youngest son. Yes, she could see there was no love lost between the two of them.

"Brother... I come here as an emissary of King Robb Stark, my husband, to ask you for an alliance in the fight against the Lannisters and their lackeys", she then told him, crossing her arms under her chest.

For a second he studied her, before again he smirked and made his way over to her. "So, a Queen now, eh?", he said as he hobbled up to her and she noticed that he did not use his left foot too much, relying on his stick. "Who would have thought, that my ugly sister would become Queen of the frozen wasteland one day?"

"Well, who would have thought, that my weak, crybaby brother would become Lord Reaper of Pyke one day?", she gave back and mirrored that smirk. Both began to chuckle.

"Come. Let us feast. My sister has returned and one good reason more to feast and drink and sing is always good."

-

Theon was, Asha noticed, a sneaky, creepy son of a bitch. In a good kind of way. He had survived gruesome injuries he had received while still being a soft, sweet little boy, and had walked away stronger from it. She still felt bad about it, about not being able to protect him back then, but what was done was done.

His one good eye was always in motion, scanning the surrounding, looking at people while they had turned their backs, drilling holes into men and women speaking with him. He smiled at the wrong moments, always smirking and chuckling at things and comments harsh and gruesome. He also smirked at serving wenches and maids when they passed, while shooting daggers with his eye at men who he felt were not respecting him enough.

And he also said her in simple words, that he, the Lord Reaper of Pyke, will not accept an alliance with the North, even if his sister was married to the King of it. However... "If your King would only point out that the forces of the Lannisters are occupied right now and Lannisport and the entire western coast is right to be plucked like a little maiden... Then I would surely think about it."

Asha rolled with her eyes, but she accepted it. Men were sometimes just... strange.

-

She had left Pyke two days later and only saw her brother again after the whole war was over. After the betrayal of the Freys and the Boltons and the return of the Dragons. After she had grown big with child and had to waddle through the hallways of the newly rebuild Winterfell like a fat cow. After the Rock fell and Highgarden and King's Landing had burned and everything had been turned upside down.

Sansa was back from her hiding in the Vale. Arya was home again and then someday vanished together with her bull knight. Ned and Cately, who had been like parents to her, were dead and gone and yet she never felt alone in these halls that had always been more of a home to her than Pyke could ever be.

She saw how Robb, King in the North Robb Stark, the young wolf, the Lionslayer, would take long walks with her brother Theon. Theon the cunning. Theon Greyjoy the Lord Reaper of Pyke, the conquerer of the Rock, the raider of the western coast. The two men who had beaten House Lannister into submission, robbing them blind and massacring their armies.

As she sat at the side of her husband at the feast celebrating the beginning of spring, and the birth of the heir, she did not miss the bashing smile her brother gave to her sister in law, Sansa, once again unwed. 

"You think you husband would be willing to make a match between his sister and a lowly lord from the Iron Islands?", he asked her later with a broad grin plastered across his face. He was, though scarred, still rather handsome. If you could ignore the missing eye. There could be worse matches for her, she thought and returned the smile.

"Perhaps. But I warn you, she is dear to me. Hurt her, and I will hurt you."

"I would expect nothing less dear sister, nothing less." He waited for another second, before he asked: "Are you happy?"

She turned her head, to see her husband joking with Lord Umber and other bannermen, to see Sansa holding young baby Edward Stark, to see Bran deep in conversation with Meera Reed who hung at his every words. She turned back to her brother, the brother who had lived and prevailed despite everything and loved her in his own, rough way. "Now I am."

Every conversation between the two of them was interrupted as Robb suddenly appeared at her side and pulled her from her seat to dance with her, despite him being heavy in his ale. They laughed, they danced, they kissed, and Asha knew, that live could not get any better. When Sansa suddenly appeared next to them, dancing with little Edward in her arms who laughed and smiled, she knew that she had been wrong.


	2. Interactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few interactions Robb has with his wife and new brother-in-law.

Theon Greyjoy was not what Robb would have expected him to be. From the stories he had heard from the smallfolk and the whispers in the taverns, he should have been a brutal monster and rapist, seven foot tall and heavily muscled, swinging an axe and a sword in one hand each, calling out for blood and newborn babies to be ritually drowned. From the stories his wife, his wild and beautiful Asha, had told him about her brother, he was a smiling, sweet boy with big eyes and a silly side to him.

The man had conquered the Rock with wit and tricks, sneaking in his men disguised as servants and merchants, opening the Lions Mouth when the real attack came. This man had set Highgarden aflame with cashes of wildfire, had brought slaughter and pillaging to the heart of the Reach while the main force of the Tyrells had been distracted at King's Landing and the Stormlands.

He had no idea how he had imagined him to be, but certainly not a broadly grinning, thin man with a face that could have been handsome if not for the missing eye. With a slim, lanky body that looked dangerously thin, with hair orginally black but already grey streaks in it. Clad in simple breeches, tunic and a long coat he did not look much like a powerful Lord, despite the heavy chain around his neck and the sword at his side.

"The young wolf. The King in the North. But were not in the North, are we?", he asked, still always smiling and showing perfect white teeth which not have been out of place on some marine predator. What were these big meat eating fishes called again? Sharks? Yes, that.

"Neither are we on the Iron Islands", he gave back with a frown. That was true, they were actually standing on the beach south of Seaguard, the sun shining above them and yet the wind harshly blowing. It was cold, very cold, and only a question of time before winter would set in. Winter was coming indeed. "I am pleased to meet you finally, your sister, my wife, has told me a lot about you."

"As I know her, most likely not much good things. To be fair, there aren't many good things about me to be told."

"Actually, she speaks very fondly of you." A small pause, then Robb added with just the shadow of a smile on his lips: "Although she also said you were quite the brat."

The smale vanished from the face of the ironborn, yet the twinkle in his eye remained. "Has she now? Well, am I speaking to the King in the North now, or my brother in law?"

Robb needed a moment to understand what he meant, then he said: "Your brother in law. There will be enough of kings and lords later. For now, I am Robb Stark, husband to Asha Stark formerly of House Greyjoy. Your brother in law."

"Good." Theon Greyjoy turned slighly to the three men behind him, a man in old robes and two armed guards. He gave them a sign not to interfere and Robb, getting the hint, did the same to his bannercarrier and guards. And in the next moment Theon lashed out, hitting Robb square in the face and on the nose. "That's for fucking my sister. Even though she's a bitch sometimes."

He had just spoken these words, then he was hit too. "That's for calling my wife a bitch... You prick."

"Sissy."

For a second both stared at each other, noses bloodied and stand slightly wobbly, then they both began to laugh.

-

They would later call it the Red Wedding. When House Frey and House Bolton turned their coat in a most spectacular fashion and tried to assasinate Robb Stark, his wife, his mother and his highest ranking lords. And it blew up right in their faces.

Because what no one had foreseen was Asha Stark jumping to her feet and throwing a small hand axe right into the face of Lord Frey. And neither had any one foreseen the consequences of having ironborn lords at the wedding, the newest allies to the Riverland-North alliance against the King on the Iron Throne. Because fighting while drunk... Well, that's not so uncommon for these louts.

And especially had none of the traitors foreseen the fact that Queen Asha Stark, formerly of House Greyjoy, had found out about the betrayal beforehand and thus the King had been quite ready for this event.

As Robb stood before the lifeless corpse of Walder Frey, still sitting in his chair with his head all but nailed to the back of it, he sighed, partly because of sadness, partly because of amusement. With a somewhat amused smile he turned to his wife and said: "Please remind me never to make you angry. No matter the cause."

"Noted, husband", she answered, still clad in her, by now bloody, dress she had worn for the ceremony and the feast. All around them there were the tracks of a bloodbath. It had been a dangerous gamble they had played at, a gamble which had payed off, but not without cost. Lord Umber, one of his most loyal bannermen, had been felled by a series of crossbow bolts, together with a few more loyal and good men.

"I will loose this dress and wash the blood and grime of my body", she told him and tore him from his thoughts once more. As he supplied no answer she added: "And I need someone to rub my back."

"I will send a maid to you."

"... sometimes you're an idiot, Robb Stark." And with these words she turned around and walked away.

He stared after her, confused for a few seconds, before his mind cought up and he blushed deeply. "Oh." What was it at a battle, which made his wife so, well, horny?

-

Robb Stark had not been what Theon would have expected. His sister had spoken of her child husband with a fondness in her voice he had not heard since his mother had died, speaking of his honor and warmth and the way his eyes shone when he laughed. The smallfolk spoke of a man changing into a wolf to fight his enemies, a brutal monster who outwitted his enemies with old magic and mysterious ways.

When he had met him, back on the beach of the Riverlands to speak about a possible alliance, he had not seen a smiling boy or a wolf-monster, but a broad, kind man with red hair and a red beard, all Tully in looks but Stark in build. And strong eyes. A man worthy of his sisters hand, but he had no mind to tell him that.

For two days they had spoken, their forces only a spear throw away from one another, the Iron Fleet on the sea with more than ten thousand men ready to go on land, the northern host camping near the beach with equal that number of northerners just waiting to pull their swords at those men who had been their ancestral enemies since any man could think. However there had been no bloodshed and after they part ways, Theon thought he could actually like this young wolf.

Not that he would have told him. Not even under torture.

Life goes on and so does the war. A war which is kind to the ironborn, their shores protected from retaliation and the whole western coast of the realm theirs to prey upon. Lannisport has fallen, the Rock has been plundered, the Arbor raised to the ground when their fleet was away, Highgarden set aflame. Everyone in between either already robbed blind of any treasure or hiding with pissed breeches under their beds, praying that no longships be seen on the sea.

When Theon sees Robb for the next time he had a whole harem of salt wives already, the treasure chamber of Pyke filled to the brim and even too small to hold everything which the Lord Reaper of Pyke now calls his own.

It is in Moat Cailin they see each other again, again with their armies on their backs. But this time, both armies are standing side by side, awaiting the enemy from the south.

As they stood side by side on the battlements on one of the three remaining towers of the once great fortress, their hair flowing in the icy wind and coats protecting them from the bitter cold, they talk. They talk about war, about love, about responsibillities and fathers.

"I envy you. Somehow", Robb says while his gaze is turned southward, into the direction of the swamps. Into the direction from where the Dragon Queen will come. Together with her dragons and fire and death.

"Why?", askes Theon without turning to him, taking a sip from a hot ale he grips with both his hands to warm them a bit.

"You do not carry the weight of a crown upon your head. Their isn't an entire kingdom looking up to you for leadership and justice and mercy." A short pause follows, a pause filled with the howling of the wind and the sounds of the army camps around them.

"I envy you too", Theon then says. Again a short pause and Robb turns his head to his conversational partner, noticing the smirk on the ironborns face. "Because you, my friend", the slightly older man begins to explain. "... can wear the crown and be a good king. You are honorable and just and beloved. Things I am not."

"I won the crown by the death of the men following me into battle. They made me their king."

"See, that's what I mean."

Robb shakes his head and does not reply, turning his gaze back south. They will most likely wait another few days before the Dragon Queen will arrive, riding on the back of her magical beast. Still they stand there and gaze to the horizon.

"Can I tell you a secret?", Robb finally says as Theon is just about to hobble away to refill his ale.

"Of course. What is it?"

"Facing dragons in the south and white walkers in the north..." Again a pause. A sigh and then he says: "I am afraid. My heart is filled with fear like never before."

"Good."

He abruptly turns to Theon and shots daggers at him with his eyes. "How is this good?"

"It means you're not stupid."

-

His wife was beautiful. He could not say it in any other way and could not think of another word to describe her better. She was graceful with the confidence of a warrior queen, had hair as dark as the night and a cocky smile which just dared him to prove her wrong. She could pull him along a string and he wouldn't even notice it and he was thankfull for her not doing it... too often at least.

She was temperamental like a storm at times and those few moments when she was calm he cherished... because most of the times, these were moments they would spend together, alone, either in their bedchamber or their tent or just riding along side.

Her swelling with child had not made her less beautiful in his eyes. She became moodier, yes, and more violent at times, but when that happened in their bedchamber he was not one to proclaim about the fact. When at first he had refused to lay with her after learning of her pregnancy, she had pushed him to the wall, and he still had no idea how she had done that, and told him in simple words that he would do best advised to fuck her silly or she would go insane on him and go on a killing spree.

Like he had said, she was willfull.

As she laid beside him in their chambers in Riverrun, the last embers of the fire being the only source of light for them, he could not help but to admire her. Her belly was heavily swollen from the life growing inside of her and her body was covered in a fine layer of sweat. He smiled slightly.

"What are you staring at?", she asked him suddenly with a dangerous undertone in her voice. "Yes, I know, I'm fat like a whale."

"You, my dear wife, are the most beaufitul whale I have ever seen."

"You have never seen a whale." A pause. "But I take the compliment as what you intendet it to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, writing Robb and Theon is easy for me. Writing Robb and Asha... not so much.


End file.
